


Some Like it Cold

by Antares



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Anal Play, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Temperature Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-19
Updated: 2008-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 04:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5032921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antares/pseuds/Antares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'ts hot in Colorado Springs and there is water-ice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Like it Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta Cimmie!!

The weather forecast had predicted a thunderstorm for this afternoon and the air was already electrically charged, hot and sticky.

Nevertheless, a cold frisson was running through Jack’s body – and not in the metaphorical sense – because at the moment Daniel was sliding a Popsicle over Jack’s back, vertebra for vertebra. The ice was slowly melting and a trace of cold water mixed with ice reached Jack’s butt. Jack would have liked to stop it but it wasn’t possible, his hands being tied to the kitchen table. Leaving little shudders in its wake, the melting water-ice was drawing small circles of chilliness on his buttocks which clenched uncontrollably.

How had he ended up in this position?

In the first place he could blame his big mouth. They had met this afternoon to play an archaeological adventure game on Daniel’s computer. Due to power shortages they had had to decide between the A/C and the computer and had opted for the computer. After an hour of sweating, Daniel had fetched two Popsicles for cooling down and Jack had looked down his nose at the cheap brand being accustomed to better ice-cream with Daniel.

“You really want to eat this frozen dishwater?” he had asked snidely.

And then he had underestimated Daniel once again and had fallen for Daniel’s harmless sounding statement that you hadn’t had to eat the ice to cool down.

“And you wanna do what instead, iceman?”

“Eh … you don’t want to know, Jack.”

“Why not?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Well, that had been his cue. Jack O’Neill wasn’t afraid of anything. One minute later, he had pulled his t-shirt over his head, had climbed out of his boxers and lain down on the kitchen floor, the tiles feeling amazingly cool under his overheated skin.

The first touch with the cold ice on his shoulders had been wonderfully refreshing and he had relaxed. Nobody challenged O’Neill and got away with it. This is how he ended up with his hands tied to the legs of the kitchen table a few minutes later. Only when he had been truly helpless had Daniel’s movements gotten … more sensuous with every second.

Now they felt like … caresses. Ice-cold caresses. Jack’s temperature was climbing instead of falling with the course the ice on the stick was steering now. Slippery, drippy coldness squashed between his butt cheeks. Touching areas that were much too sensitive for these minus-degrees. But Daniel’s knees forced Jack’s legs apart and he didn’t offer resistance.

Strokes, icy and teasing. Advancing and retreating. Jack lifted his hips a bit and the coldness glided up to his cock. Pausing a moment on the delicate skin before it reached it, then coated his length in cold, sugary water and retreated again.

Jack pressed his front to the floor when the chilly pressure slid back again, teasing between his cheeks. He felt sticky drops running down his thighs and groaned loudly. Then he felt a short pressure to his hole which tried to open. Jack prepared himself for the penetration, not really knowing whether to stop it or to allow it.

Daniel took that decision from him and removed the Popsicle. That didn’t feel right either.

“Do it, before there isn’t anything left!” Jack ordered breathlessly.

“Open your mouth.”

Surprised, Jack opened his eyes and saw Daniel offering him another ice on a stick. Fresh from the paper it had been wrapped in and still slightly damp.

“Oh, dammit!” With a small sigh that wasn’t a whimper, Jack opened his lips. It wasn’t his fault that it felt like a blow-job to him, when the strawberry flavour exploded on his tongue when it came into contact with the frozen water. It wasn’t his fault when images swamped him that had nothing to do with harmless strawberry ice. It wasn’t his fault he had to groan loudly when Daniel ordered, “Make it wet,” and the sheer porno-quality in the words shocked him and turned him on at the same time.

Jack’s lips covered the Popsicle and his hard cock rubbed rhythmically against the kitchen-floor until Daniel told him, “Enough.”

Breathless, trembling with anticipation Jack spread his legs and waited. The next moment the coldness was back and pressed into his body. Jack panted harshly. Coldness stretched him, coldness invaded his body heat. He wanted to escape, he wanted to get closer, he wanted it to end and he wanted to be possessed by it.

And that’s what happened. 

Mere – embarrassing – ninety seconds later, Colonel Jack O’Neill came with a loud moan and a Popsicle in his ass.

Daniel grinned.

\--------THE END------

©Antares, June 2008 


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